Member
CabbageAngel
Antlers
Eddie Brock
AuthorialTheory
AmongHeroes
Kefka Palazzo
Exit
Mjolnir
Lunamaria Hawke
Altered Tundra
ββββββββββββββββ. . .ββββββββββββββββ. . .ββββββββββββββββ. . .ββββββββββββββββ. . .ββββββββββββββββ
&
. l. . u. . c. . e. . a. . m. . s. . e. . l .. .
- β
© -
. α΄ α΄‘ α΄ Ι΄ α΄ Κ - κ° α΄ α΄ Κ . κ° α΄ α΄ α΄ Κ α΄ . α΄
α΄ Ι΄ α΄ α΄ Κ α΄ / / Ι’ α΄ Κ α΄ α΄ Ι΄ - α΄ α΄ α΄ Κ Ιͺ α΄ α΄ Ι΄ .
γ t h e m e . γ
γ t h e m e . γ
/ / . o c c u p a t i o n .
Rats oft will bunker down within numbers, skittering betwixt mountains of refuge tainted with zydrate binaries and oozing mechanics - solace among the physically enhanced whilst mentally deranged. Drug addled stupors and fixating glamours; acid-paint, hole-punched piercings and fire-rust, twinkling knives and grinding teeth like cogs. When one can't afford to dip credits and cash into the pocket of another, they pinch the knee length hose and fishnet bearings of those powder laced ladies with sequinned eyes. Rats scatter and drift and chew their ways through flesh and bone, no matter the colour or taste of Neon taint. They call them Rats with their waif figurines and twittering claws and switch like limbs that envelop tight for just the right amount stuffed within a latex bodice. Luce is a Rat, a brewing group of individuals that lack the initiative and order to produce sigils, monikers, and befitting stature among the drug-smuggling populace of Paradiso. They card dealings through flesh, enhanced and mortal, they chitter secrets with drug-fuzzy words, collect them just the same like currency and use them to spin webs that cling tight and manipulate those around them. Rats know the networking of most shadowed alley ways and cramped tunnels, they squeeze tight through life and some flit to and fro betwixt the gangs of Paradiso, always with information to sell and certain hardware to proffer. Luce is a Rat that collects details far and wide and banks them deep within the seeded hardware of her produced and deluged mind workings, she snuffs out those deemed too low for a drug-lord to handle and mules drugs from one hand to another; if not having indulged just a bit herself.
During eerily bright hours of a waning stupor, Luce tends to a facade of a living as an entertainer for the Sky Bar; serving lurid,
neon glimmering cocktails by song or skipping between patrons as a tight faced, beaming smile of a doll.
During eerily bright hours of a waning stupor, Luce tends to a facade of a living as an entertainer for the Sky Bar; serving lurid,
neon glimmering cocktails by song or skipping between patrons as a tight faced, beaming smile of a doll.
/ / . p l a c e o f r e s i d e n c e .
Usually one of two, or maybe three places, will Luce shake her bearings and lay down for the night, sometimes the morning. She owns the apartment 17A on the fourth floor of The Complex, but lacks the roots of heart and home. Luce can also be found within the living quarters conjoined with the dive bar called Dance With The Dead by the locale flavour, currently owned by a Kacey Holden; also a Rat, but of a different type. Where ever else she may lie, usually depends on the day, and the job.
/ / . c y b e r n e t i c s .
. s α΄ Η« α΄ Ιͺ Ι΄ α΄ Κ α΄ s . / / - They call them glittering pools of integrated software that spans the oculus and further in depth through the optical nerve and feeding onto the brain that promotes vision and the interpretation of such. The eyes are completely exchanged for a series of various colours and tones, the term Sequin being coined from the drifts of The Lower Districts and Diamond Heights, placing them for the unique presentation of their appearance like gems of circular cuts and lay. Within lights they interchange often, eerily so, without indication to pupils or iris with slight amplifications in place of a cornea to ensure protection from potential damage. The enhanced sight is capable of minute recordings of sixty second intervals and housed in a small chamber for later reflection or projecting if the proper software product is present within the photo-receptors.
/ / . b i o .
One plays the cards they are dealt and Luce is always holding a hand of Aces up her sleeve.
Of course, Luce wasn't always a Rat or a shiny-eyed siren with biting whispers and secrets of every tower, ridge or person of Paradiso, but, the life that was before is a blur of pain and glittering glances. Where agony is not only felt, but tasted, and one suffers loss of reflection onto deeds done and those done onto you. Luce literally stumbled her way through what she calls a rainbow drowned boulevard bedecked with neon shining towers and a melting sun, the hallucination one of a common Gigabyte indulgence with a severe drawback of the shakes from critical withdrawals. Some Rats, most of them, are simply born into what they are, family, friends, basic affiliations that leave little room for one to expand on their supposed destiny, and some are simply made into what they are. Luce was, is, one of many that came to this unfortunate grace of life, some would call it a euphoric blessing, and others just a mere way of life that one endeavors to survive in.
The Amsel name comes from somewhere though, be it a harsh scrawl of slashing letters through a Neon induced high, or from a curious look over by passing eyes through a Databahn transfer drive, and such literally translates to black bird. Luce wouldn't know where the name originates from, or if there are others that can arise to the appellation much like it entails, her memories are literally a haze and randomized glimpses of a life squandered, where eyes of blue stare right on back through sequined shadows. The name, Luce, has eternally been hers, probably her only possession within life.
Even her eyes are not her own, and she cannot recall quite how she came to possess them, only that her sometimes roommate called them a gift once when she broke down in a frenzy and struggled to peel blood from clumping together with her cosmetically spiked lashes. Initially, Luce was a meager peddler for whichever narcotic came into her lap, usually by the urging of whichever patron needed a deeper leeway into The Lower Districts and so on, sometimes even reaching Diamond Heights where she landed a decent occupation by her endearing simper alone. As a place open the public, it often attracts various aesthetics to appeal to every nature of person that drifts in from the Hotel yonder. She didn't quite come into her Rat membership, if one could call it that, until a low-life Foundry worker met the end of her juiced up knife, an illegal manufacture - a garish pink model really - stolen from the arm of a passed out slum dog and fixated into the form of a shiv. One drug lord to an abuser, as it goes, who refused payment from his daily indulgences.
Rats are efficient in their duties to get randomized jobs finished, the sort of freelancer vagabonds, and Luce is no exception to that rumored facet of their skittering finesse. If no one else wishes to do it, you can bet the Rats will and Luce is usually at the top of the proverbial chart to get the job done.
Of course, Luce wasn't always a Rat or a shiny-eyed siren with biting whispers and secrets of every tower, ridge or person of Paradiso, but, the life that was before is a blur of pain and glittering glances. Where agony is not only felt, but tasted, and one suffers loss of reflection onto deeds done and those done onto you. Luce literally stumbled her way through what she calls a rainbow drowned boulevard bedecked with neon shining towers and a melting sun, the hallucination one of a common Gigabyte indulgence with a severe drawback of the shakes from critical withdrawals. Some Rats, most of them, are simply born into what they are, family, friends, basic affiliations that leave little room for one to expand on their supposed destiny, and some are simply made into what they are. Luce was, is, one of many that came to this unfortunate grace of life, some would call it a euphoric blessing, and others just a mere way of life that one endeavors to survive in.
The Amsel name comes from somewhere though, be it a harsh scrawl of slashing letters through a Neon induced high, or from a curious look over by passing eyes through a Databahn transfer drive, and such literally translates to black bird. Luce wouldn't know where the name originates from, or if there are others that can arise to the appellation much like it entails, her memories are literally a haze and randomized glimpses of a life squandered, where eyes of blue stare right on back through sequined shadows. The name, Luce, has eternally been hers, probably her only possession within life.
Even her eyes are not her own, and she cannot recall quite how she came to possess them, only that her sometimes roommate called them a gift once when she broke down in a frenzy and struggled to peel blood from clumping together with her cosmetically spiked lashes. Initially, Luce was a meager peddler for whichever narcotic came into her lap, usually by the urging of whichever patron needed a deeper leeway into The Lower Districts and so on, sometimes even reaching Diamond Heights where she landed a decent occupation by her endearing simper alone. As a place open the public, it often attracts various aesthetics to appeal to every nature of person that drifts in from the Hotel yonder. She didn't quite come into her Rat membership, if one could call it that, until a low-life Foundry worker met the end of her juiced up knife, an illegal manufacture - a garish pink model really - stolen from the arm of a passed out slum dog and fixated into the form of a shiv. One drug lord to an abuser, as it goes, who refused payment from his daily indulgences.
Rats are efficient in their duties to get randomized jobs finished, the sort of freelancer vagabonds, and Luce is no exception to that rumored facet of their skittering finesse. If no one else wishes to do it, you can bet the Rats will and Luce is usually at the top of the proverbial chart to get the job done.
. p u n k 's n o t d e a d ; b u t i a m .
